A Star's Love for Ice
by Shen Xin Chu
Summary: This story ends here. Not because I don't get any reviews or anything. Just because writing this story isn't in me anymore. Maybe I'll do this idea over someday. It'll be up to read but it ain't goin' nowhere.
1. Default Chapter

Okkk…. I don't own Legolas, Gimli, King Ellasar, Arwen, or any character large or small created by Tolkien. If I did, I wouldn't be here. If I did own Legolas…well…  
  
  
  
I do however, own Cairnoè, Nyphestas, Mesophas, Celebhríve, and other characters invented and created by ME. Yeah, that sounds so narcissistic… On to the fic!!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A Star's Love for Ice  
  
  
  
Prologue… Friend's Departure  
  
  
  
Cairnoè fitted the sleek arrow into her bow, aiming towards the painted target lashed onto a tree. There was an entire row of these targets, set before her at a long distance.  
  
  
  
She pulled back the arrow slowly and surely. A pair of hands settled over her eyes, blocking out the Mirkwood sun. Cairnoè's arrow shot out in her surprise, striking the target dead center anyways. Lowering her bow, she grabbed the warm hands and broke their grip, twisting them around her.  
  
  
  
When she saw the culprit, Cairnoè let go. "Don't you have somewhere to go, Legolas?" she asked, taking a deep breath.  
  
  
  
"It will be long before I behold you once more, lady," answered Legolas simply. His handsome face was grim, but his eyes betrayed him.  
  
  
  
"Of course, Legolas. You found sorrow as a good reason to ambush me? If you've any sense, you will help me retrieve my arrow," she said. Though Legolas was the son of a great Lord, Cairnoè still treated him as an elf and not a god. Though many of the elven women she knew acted as if he was. He looked enough like a god, with his pale gold-hued hair and fair face.  
  
  
  
"I am sorry if I frightened you, mellon. I will help you in this task, if I shall be forgiven. I did not know you were weak of heart," said Legolas, sounding almost genuine.  
  
  
  
"My dear ass, I am not weak of heart. It seems that you are weak of mind. You were my friend for a thousand or so years long enough to know that. Let's hurry, before you are any later for your journey," returned Cairnoè at length.  
  
  
  
The two friends spent an hour in the archery range, racing and laughing. It wasn't until a page called for Legolas that they halted before the arrow.  
  
  
  
"Here is your arrow, Cairnoè," said Legolas, pulling out the arrow and handing it to her as if it were a crown of jewels.  
  
  
  
"I thank you, your highness. I wish to-to give you a gift before you go to Rivendell for the Council of Elrond," Cairnoè said, pulling out something from a pocket inside the sleeve of her dress. It was a pendant, ornate but small. Two gems like blooms of Niphredil were set into a pendant of silver and hung on a chain. She pressed it into the hand of Legolas and closed his fingers over it. "The Rune of Love. Though there is none of that between us, I only wanted you to have it. There are things ahead I cannot voice, for they are too terrible for the words of the Elven. But I know that it will be long before I look into your eyes as well, Legolas. Perhaps too long… I bid you farewell, for now, but not forever," she murmured, looking up into his eyes.  
  
  
  
Legolas lost his smile and his face was wrought in concern. "I am grateful of this gift. It will remain dear to me as you are. I know your foresight well, and will not argue against it. But I will not bid you farewell, for I will see you again, however long the time between it."  
  
  
  
Cairnoè smiled sadly. "What will come to pass will pass, mellon. Go before they leave you, Prince," she ushered.  
  
  
  
Legolas slipped the pendant into his pocket. The two friends embraced for the last time in many a year.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So…okay… please review. It's only the prologue, so don't…kill me, please. I'll have the first chapter up and there will be more stuff and it'll make some sense. Mebbe there will be some bloodshed later on, who knows? I don't even know…. 


	2. The First Chapter

Chapter 1… And he arrives home…  
  
  
  
Eryn Lasgalen, Wood of Greenleaves, Formerly Mirkwood…  
  
Legolas shielded his eyes as he scanned the horizon. The endless green forest was home to him. He remembered her, most of all. There was not a moment in his journey in which he did not rest his mind upon her visage. Not like the thoughts of a crazed lover, Legolas always told himself, never like that. His thoughts for her were only like the thoughts of his home, only like his home.  
  
"What do you see, Legolas?" asked Gimli the dwarf. He had come with his friend as a bargain. Though he did not admit it, Legolas suspected that Gimli enjoyed the forests to some extent.  
  
"Home, Gimli. Why grumble? I kept my end of the bargain. Now you keep yours," answered Legolas. He started down the hill where they stood, a place where he stood once alone before his journey.  
  
Gimli kept his complaints, however, the entire way down.  
  
An elf awaited them on horseback when they arrived at the edge of Greenwood. "Hello, Prince Legolas, son of Thranduil. Hello, Gimli, Elf- friend, son of Gloin. Welcome to Greenwood. Your sire is expecting you, highness," greeted the elf, turning to Legolas and giving a deep nod.  
  
Legolas returned his greeting. "Very well. What be your name, friend?"  
  
"Mesophas, My Lord," the elf answered promptly.  
  
"Mesophas, ride ahead to my father and send news that I come shortly. I wish to show my friend Gimli the beauty of our home."  
  
"Then be aware that he will not be the only to behold Greenwood. Our home has changed so much in a very short extent of time, My Lord."  
  
"I noted that, and am glad of it. I enjoy change."  
  
"Of course. I shall be away now, Lord," and with that, Mesophas turned his steed toward the trees.  
  
Legolas hesitated. "Mesophas! I have a last question of you! Is there one named Cairnoé among the living? A maiden, known for her sharp tongue?" he asked.  
  
Mesophas turned his head. "No, I have not heard of such a name. I have not been here long, having been removed from Lorien. Forgive me, lord," he answered obediently.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "None to be forgiven, Mesophas. That is all I need, many thanks."  
  
All the while, Gimli pondered at the look on Legolas' face. A look of hope had died there in his eyes. Grunting, Gimli shook off the triviality of it all and went forth into the wood. "A maiden, Legolas? It seems that your mind dwells not only in the land and in your bow, but also in the women. You are not as dull as you seem, friend. Tell me of this maiden," said Gimli, trying to diminish his friend's sadness. Legolas sad was a thing almost unheard of.  
  
Legolas turned to him, almost as if he were waking from a dream. "She was… a friend, no more. Fairest of all I've seen, but I took no pursuit. She is much like the lady Eowyn in ways, Gimli, only more life-loving," he answered, and his face became wistful.  
  
Gimli shook his head. "It is what they all say, Legolas. It is what they all say. I suppose that if she made you fall for her, she must be a pretty thing. But I will decide for myself. The Lady of the Wood, Galadriel, will always be fairest to me," he said, taking his turn to be wistful.  
  
They spent a day amongst the trees of Greenwood; Legolas admiring the new light that shown in through the trees, Gimli listening gladly to his tales. They spent the night under the stars, both friends sharing tales of each glimmering light they recognized.  
  
The next morning, Gimli and Legolas stood before Thranduil. He was clad in the rich greens of his people. A jewel rested upon his brow that was bound there by a ring of gold encircling his head. It was the crown of Greenwood.  
  
"It has been long, my son, and your deeds have grown," greeted the Lord of Greenwood. He then turned to rest his gaze upon Gimli. "Elf-friend Gimli son of Gloin. Much has been heard of you. I have spoken of you with Galadriel and Celeborn. It seems that you are the greatest dwarf our people have ever seen. The people of Greenwood welcome you. There will be a feast welcoming you home, Legolas, though you came on short notice. The feast was to be for the Celebríve, who comes hither from the Sea."  
  
Legolas seemed puzzled. "I have not heard of him. Who is this man with such a strange name?"  
  
Thranduil nodded slowly. "The Silver Winter arrives from the Havens to assist us in our war with the outlaws of the North. Celebríve is a native of Greenwood. And a man he is naught. A fair maiden is more like it. You know her as Cairnoé, Legolas," said Thranduil, the corners of his lips turning upwards at the surprise of Legolas.  
  
"There seems to be much that has changed since I stepped into Rivendell. Where can I find her?" asked Legolas quickly. The dying hope that Gimli beheld had been lit again.  
  
Then Thranduil smiled. He had not done so in five hundred years. "I know you are anxious. Perhaps you should listen to Treebeard, Legolas. 'Do not be hasty' indeed. She will be present at the feast. Get reacquainted with your home," he said in his serene mood.  
  
Legolas opened his mouth to talk but thought better of it.  
  
"Gimli son of Gloin, I must speak with you," continued Thranduil. He turned to Mesophas and called him forth with a raising of his hand. For the first time, they saw that Mesophas stood in the corner silent and watching. His bow was stretched. "Mesophas, lead Legolas to his chambers. They have been kept ready for him," he said, and Mesophas bowed and did as Thranduil ordered.  
  
After Mesophas had left Legolas to his own devices, Legolas walked about his chambers for a moment before turning to the baths. His baths, really. The cloak of Lorien was fondly folded away. His bow, quiver, and long knife he stashed away. After removing his travel-stained garb he settled into the soothing bath water that was kept ever warm. Almost instantly, his muscles relaxed and he let out a heavy sigh. Legolas looked about him. The bathhouse was enormous. Its white marble walls gleamed with moisture. He missed being home. So many days past, small little days.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes, letting his thoughts mull over in the water. The thoughts mulled over very much. The beauty of Ithilien came back to him. His promise in Gondor came as well. Then there was Cairnoé, who he saw in his mind's eye. The blood-red hue of her hair and the brilliance of her bright green eyes stood out. Cairnoé in war? He never thought it possible… He brushed several other thoughts out of his mind and finished his bath.  
  
"You know Legolas better than I do, Elf-friend. What do you suppose we do about the Prince of Greenwood?" said Thranduil, walking with Gimli among the gardens of Greenwood. They walked past the symblmyne that grew upon the graves of the Lords of Old slain in battle, their blossoms tossing sweet scents in the wind.  
  
Gimli looked up at the lord. "You are correct in that I know Legolas well, My Lord. It would be unlike him to love in secret, as you have aforesaid. He cares more for the trees and now the sea than for an elf-maid. Perhaps it is like he has said: 'No more than a friend, Master Gimli.' I do not know. If they do plight their troth, do you give consent, Your Highness?" he asked, fingering the edge of his axe fondly in thought.  
  
Thranduil's face tensed. Gimli could see that Thranduil loved his son very much. The Lord of Greenwood stooped to pick up a small stone, plain against his finery but bright red in hue and polished. "I have not seen, in all my long life, among halflings and elves, among men and dwarves, a maiden so wild. She is more cold and unforgiving than Caradhras. She once possessed a heart until Legolas left upon his journey. She caught sight of the sea, Elf- friend. She followed the elven desire. The desire of the Sea lies dormant in all our people's eyes.  
  
"I do not believe that they will come together in the end. Legolas will feel only pain. The Silver Winter will feel naught. Unless by some chance my foresight tells a lie, no one will be bound to anyone," he finished, his fingers clenching the stone tightly.  
  
Gimli only nodded in silence. He thought to speak again when Mesophas came unto them.  
  
"The hour for merrymaking draws near, lord. Guests arrive and the fires are lit. Celebríve is waiting, lord," he informed, bowing low.  
  
Thranduil nodded slowly and slipped the stone into his pocket. "Then we shall prepare also. Come, Master Gimli, let us make our appearance," he said, starting back to the gardens where the feast was held.  
  
Again… do not kill me…. It's not my fault I write like pleh! I know this doesn't sound like it has a plot just yet, but it will next few chapters guaranteed!! This is just to get started… 


	3. Winter Comes Early to Greenwood

Winter comes early to Greenwood…  
  
The Gardens were a place once destroyed by warring but now healed. The likes of Gandalf the White and Galadriel had blessed the earth there and let forth fountains that quenched the flames of orcs. Simbelmyne grew here also, sad as it was. Great stone pillars and white statues gleamed with evening dew. It was bedecked with flowers of all kinds; every kind in middle-earth that would will itself to bloom blossomed underneath the moon.  
  
Tonight, the pale beauty of the Gardens was lit up with elven fires and silver wrought lanterns. Many elves had already arrived, carrying food and drink of all sorts and all of delicious taste. As the feast began, Thranduil feasted with several of his guests, one including Gimli and Glorfindel, an elf who assisted Frodo Baggins the ring-bearer long ago.  
  
Legolas ate among his fellows and in cheery demeanor, though he looked about often for Celebrive. At last when it came time to clear the eateries and join in song and dance, Legolas grew weary of his wait and rose up to leave, claiming that the food, though fine, disagreed with his stomach.  
  
His aching seemed to be cured when he glanced his father speaking to a young elf-maid. She seemed strangely familiar…  
  
"Legolas! I believe you know this elven warrior from afar?" asked Thranduil as he approached with the maiden. She was decked in blue and silver. Her face, as fair as it was, seemed sad and lifeless. Legolas knew her instantly and rushed forth to embrace her.  
  
"Cairnoe! It has been as you have told me all those long summers ago. You stand before me, unchanged but sad is your face. You are not the lass I knew of old," he pondered aloud to her, arms spread to hold her.  
  
Cairnoe backed away and clasped his hand instead. "It has been long since I saw you, Prince of Greenwood. I am glad to hear your voice—My Lord," she said blandly, setting her lips upon his hand before releasing her hold and bowing. In the distance vibrant music played and all sang and danced.  
  
"I leave thee to join in amongst the merriment, for I hear my favorite of songs being played. Excuse me," said Thranduil, striding away rather quickly to hear his song. Though he was the Lord of all Greenwood, it did not mean he was too high to enjoy songs of lore.  
  
A startled Legolas looked upon the face of Cairnoe. He saw the reason for her name, Celebrive. Her face was a barren wasteland of ice, beautiful but cold and bare. The sadness in her eyes stirred up pity and grief in Legolas, who only saw such pain in those who have suffered tremendously. His friend was lost to him, it seemed.  
  
"You were sweetest summer, and now you have become the coldest of winters. What has changed thee? A broken heart?" he asked, his elven face knitted with worry.  
  
Breaking the gaze he held on her, Cairnoe bowed her head. "You were right, after all, Legolas. It is a broken heart I suffer, but it is not made lame by a man, for I bind myself to no one. It is because I feel no joy here, in this land. The moment I heard your father's request, my heart left me. I could not turn down such a plea, and I missed you as well. Now I see I was wrong. The Grey Havens, elfhome! Elfhome is forever the land of our people, Legolas! How I wish to see it again… I will do my duty here—I will slay the last of Greenwood's dangers and go home. My real home. The love of the sea tugs at me; it will not relent. You understand?" she answered softly, looking up to see into the eyes of her friend. She saw the faint glimmer in them. Temptation of the grey sea glimmered in the eyes of Legolas. That and something more—something she did not know lurked in his bright eyes. The things that stirred up in her as she looked in those eyes: hope, love, memories, oh, the memories of sunshine and laughter; it brought memories of him. Memories of life.  
  
"I understand the things you speak of. I only wish for you to have life, mellon. You are sorrowful. Let me help you," said Legolas at length.  
  
His soft voice, so full of sincerity, brought her out of her thoughts. She could not think of much else but his words. Her eyes nearly relented the hard gaze they bore until she shook off the confusion of thoughts. Cairnoe straightened her stature and looked into the eyes of Legolas, saying slowly, "You speak as if you think I care. I care not, Legolas. Life has left me like summer to the land. It soon returns, but it will not spark here. I have told you, my home is in the Grey Havens. I wish I could be a lady and as not to disappoint you but…" Her voice faltered. She stepped back as a spear, long and black, struck the point where she had stood and pinning down the hem of her dress, and around the hem became hard as ice.  
  
Thranduil hurried to her and flinched when he saw the weapon. He took a cloth from his servant and pulled out the spear, never touching it with his bare flesh. "Nyphestas, the renegade. Will she not relent? Look here, Legolas. This is the spear of the Army of the Queen. Darker than Sauron. If it were to pierce the skin, anything, be it immortal or not, will become like stone. A warning is written here: 'He who rests his gaze upon this weapon shall know that all is doomed in the end. To fight is to die. To surrender is to die. Nyphestas rules all!' She is still breathing after a score of arrows in her chest. She is strong indeed. And now, I bring to attention what I have put away. My Lady Celebrive, I think it is time you prepare for battle. The lone spear is always followed by many," he warned, striking the black spear into the ground, where the poison dripping from it turned the ground gray and lifeless.  
  
A spark lit in Cairnoe that frightened Legolas. "It is what I come for, my lord. I think you must gather your fighters. The time for battle is short, and time for victory even shorter. Come, Legolas, let us put away all thoughts but what we require for battle. My blade needs whetting," she said calmly. And with the slightest movement, she tore off the ruined hem of her gown and stalked off to prepare herself.  
  
Gimli, who had just appeared, watched as Legolas gazed after her. "She is a wild one, friend. I dare not go to battle next to a warrior so ready. Well… in any such case, we must prepare for battle as well. Come with me! Come with me, Legolas! To fight is to die indeed!" he cried, taking his arm. Thranduil nodded at Gimli's request for dismissal and the two made for their chambers as quick as Gimli's legs found it possible.  
  
Who is this Nyphestas I have abruptly thrown in? I don't know… I think she might have a few paragraphs or something… I need some more caffeine…yeah…caffeine… 


	4. One Smile

Finally… You like blood? Well, I do too. First of all… I just wanna thank the clowns under my mattress for givin' me such good ideas… can they haunt a girl so so much?? Well, thank ye, Clowns!! My invisible friend George died in algebra today so… I just feel kinda glum. We haven't removed his poor rotting corpse from the desk in the back… They keep sitting on him for some reason! Meh…  
  
Erm… Be prepared for Queen Nyphestas the great!!! Hoom, hum, hoom, hum! Hehehe… 3 cups of coffee ain't gonna do you good! Ahem… The fic continues…  
  
  
  
When Legolas saw Cairnoe again, she was upon a great black steed, its size and look reminding him of the steeds of Mordor. Frightful memories rang through his head and passed through his body as a shiver.  
  
She looked down upon him in her shining mail, a menacing double-edged blade by her side and several smaller knives strapped to her form. When she spoke, her voice was no longer bland and sad, but excited, a bubbling joy half-contained. "Lle naa curucuar, Legolas. Use your skills well. I hope to see you alive again when we are rid of Nyphestas. Tenna' san'," she said, bowing her head and turning her steed.  
  
Legolas ran up and took the reins of her steed as she turned. Surprised, Cairnoe's hand strayed to the hilt of her sword. Legolas looked up into her eyes. "Your compliment is hollow. But I thank you, mellonamin. There was a golden bell in the gardens. I found it and wish you to have it. The Alfirin is a beautiful flower that reminded me of the sea. Perhaps it would calm your spirits," he said, pressing a flower into her hand before running off to join his father.  
  
Cairnoe stared at the yellow flower in her palm. Amongst the pale green leaves was a silver gleam. She picked it up and stared at it. "My gift… He remembers then. Good… it is good…" she murmured, tucking it into her mail and smelling the yellow flower. Color seemed to return to her face as she caressed the smooth golden petals, bell-shaped and perked. They reminded her of the bell that rung in the Undying Lands. Legolas might have gone through much turmoil to pick such a thing for her, to feel the temptation all over again. Silly boy, she thought, digging her heels into her steed gently. The Mordor beast galloped forth into the waning night with the Silver Winter on its hide.  
  
Thranduil had sent his most keen-eyed of scouts to seek out Nyphestas. During that time, Legolas and Gimli stood idle, tense and alert, but idle.  
  
"Lord Thranduil, these renegades, of what race be they?" asked Gimli, finally sitting down without anything to do.  
  
Thranduil looked down at the dwarf. "They are of the race of Men and of the race of Elves, like and unlike the Drow. They can be slain with bow and blade and fade with age. They call themselves the Rik'Thaan; we call them Feuyarea," he said bitterly, the names seemed to taste foul on his tongue. "Though Nyphestas is of the line of Kings, and cannot be slain. She is like a wolfhound, never resting, never halting. Beauty she may have, but it is something she cares not for, much like your Cairnoe, my son."  
  
Legolas turned to look his father in the eye. A furious blush rose in his cheek. "Lady Cairnoe is her own, she is not mine, Father," he muttered simply. An awkward silence ensued as Thranduil quietly returned his son's gaze.  
  
Gimli cleared his throat and thanked the Lord for his answer.  
  
It was then that Mesophas rode back, leading the reins of another steed with a rider upon it. "My Lord! A storm of spears and arrows torment the Eastern Walls! Lo! Behold the pain they cause!" he cried, tears in the hard elf's eyes. He thrust forth the reins of the steed.  
  
The Lord of Greenwood stepped closer. With a gasp he backed off. In the dim light they saw that the rider upon it was of stone, glittering and black. A spear head was embedded into the elf's head, trickles of stony blood paused in time. Legolas' face hardened at the sight, while Gimli started a roar of anger.  
  
"Curse them! I will make such demons into slivers of Men! Cast them into Mordor and burn their flesh! I will—"  
  
His hopeless rants were cut short as the whooping of battle cries were heard from afar. Thranduil, as stately as he appeared, pulled out a shining blade that burned in the waning sun. He swung it forth and cried out: "Gurth gothrim lye!*" The warriors nearby became as biting wind and charged forth into the sound of their foes. Legolas and Gimli were carried away swiftly into battle.  
  
………….  
  
Blood was everywhere. The blood of men, the blood of elves, the blood of animals, the blood. Blood was what they came from. Blood was how they ended, thought Cairnoe as she struck down another man. She was tired of stabbing and of cutting. She wanted to sleep. But not while they tried to kill her, so she stayed awake to kill them. So she could go to sleep.  
  
The black beast had panicked and tossed off Cairnoe onto the hard ground. A stray arrow caught it in its neck. She had no time to mourn her companion's death. Hundreds of Rik'Thaan flooded down into the outskirts outside the wood, all clad in black and scarlet mail. It became a whir of movement in the blink of an eye.  
  
Cairnoe plunged her blade down into a warrior and left it there, hearing two others charging for her from both sides. Pulling forth two of the many knives she kept with her, she struck them as they met her, digging into the flesh up and around, making sure they suffered. She left them for dead and pulled up her blade, swinging it into the face of a warrior from behind. An arrow, flashing gold, whistled past her ear. Turning, she spotted Legolas. She smiled as he dashed back into the fray. She smiled before the club smashed into her head. She smiled as the blackness enveloped her.  
  
Aah…. Nyphestas didn't come yet. I suck at action scenes!!! If you didn't notice in the first place… I just had some Mountain Dew, so the next chapter might be better!! 


	5. Nyphestas rules all!

Hehe... Complete change of style this time. I guess trying to capture Tolkien/Middle Age writing rhythm is boring unless Tolkien does it, so blah. Meh... As aforesaid, flames make me giggle.  
  
Cairnoé found complete blackness to be quite painful. There was a choking smell of rotten flesh and mildew and her hands were damp with what seemed like blood. Drums pounded into her skull. She could feel the fragments of metal that stuck into her skin where the blow had struck. Reaching up, she attempted to tug off her cracked helm. She found it hard to keep from screaming as the gash reopened. Warm blood trickled down her face.  
  
When she opened her eyes, the darkness was still there. A small grate taunted her high up above her head, a dull yellow light casting itself upon Cairnoé. "How amusing," she whispered, pulling off a glove to feel the gash. She tried to pull out a fragment of the metal.  
  
Pain.  
  
She heard steps come from outside. Or from a distance. Cairnoé heard a latch being turned. Light poured in as a heavy door was opened, revealing the blackness as a holding cell, dank and almost painted red with blood and bodies.  
  
Several figures stalked into the room, all clad in golds and greens. With them came a small child. She looked no older than ten summers. Cairnoé thought she was a servant or prisoner. Either way, she did not look scared. Cairnoé looked at the tallest of the group, a stern man with hand on hilt. But it was the child that spoke.  
  
"I knew I heard whimpering. The Whore of the Prince, no? Whore, your prince pines for you. Let me bring you to him. Yes, Hospitable Nyphestas shall bring the prince his whore," she said, her voice appearing shrill and hoarse. Her eyes were red like the rest of her people and her skin was snow white.  
  
Cairnoé gagged. "You--are Nyphestas. The Undying Nyphestas? You are a mere child! What could you possibly do?" she asked, ignoring Nyphestas' words.  
  
Nyphestas' face twitched. She snorted. "I can not die. I am a ruler of a great people! I do not come back over the seas to this place of idiocy for my prince, Whore. I can certainly kill you now. These things I can do," she replied. Nyphestas waved a hand and the tall men came forward and pulled her roughly from the floor. Cairnoé struggled for a moment before the throbbing reminded her of the bleeding. They pulled her along after Nyphestas into an empty hall.  
  
There, dumped on a table, was a mass of torn green and brown and gold. Cairnoé gasped and fought the restraints. She kicked the shin of one man and tore away her arm. Finally free, she stumbled across the room to the lump of color. Gently, she pulled it onto its back. She recognized the bracers immediately. Sweeping the bloody hair off the face, she choked as his face appeared. There were his eyes, closed. His face had blood on it, some of which was still trickling from his temple, where a large gash lay.  
  
"Legolas..." she whispered hoarsely, cradling him in her arms. An arrow stuck out from his chest. His own arrow. Cairnoé stroked his face calmly, and paused as her hand came near his lips. The full lips... she could have...but she never did. Foolish...foolish girl... She heard a scuffle as Nyphestas appeared by her side.  
  
"He's not dead yet, Whore. He is only--napping. Yes, napping. I shot him, you know. Shot him with his own arrow. Nyphestas is skilled, no? Yes, very skilled. I could let him live, no? Yes, I could. Should I? Maybe..." rambled Nyphestas, fingers twitching and stretching uncontrollably, as if they needed something to strangle.  
  
"Why did you bring me here?" asked Cairnoé hoarsely. She was close... A dagger gleamed temptingly from its sheath on Cairnoé's body. She could just...  
  
"Good question. Why did I bring filth into my abode? Silly Nyphestas... Mesophas!" she cried, and an elf came from a corner. Cairnoé gasped. The same elf? "Traitor! You filth!" screamed Cairnoé, tears falling freely down her cheeks. She made to get up to him; his throat. The elf shed his blade, a great shining sword and took a stance. Cairnoé stopped.  
  
"You could call me that. But I'm no traitor, my lady. Never was with the King from the beginning. That fool of an elf. He has no power. No power can compare to the Great Nyphestas!" exclaimed Mesophas. His voice was choked with malice, and yet, he was scared.  
  
Nyphestas chuckled, her extravagant beaded gown tinkling with the shaking figure. It was sweet, the laughter, like an elf child's. "You flatter me, Mesophas. Tell me, why I brought them here," she demanded; she didn't ask, only ordered.  
  
Mesophas glanced into Nyphestas' bloody gaze, wincing and casting his eyes down. He shook as he said, "To-to bargain--" at this Nyphestas rose an eyebrow, and Mesophas, seeing it, promptly changed his words, "To force the King Thranduil into eternal torture and pain, thus freeing the land of Northern Mirkwood from happiness and mirth for the Undying Nyphestas to reign over all," he stuttered, now trembling almost uncontrollably. Cairnoé could see his cocky attitude had been lost as soon as Nyphestas had spoken to him.  
  
A smirk and a nod from Nyphestas sent him to the corner like a dispirited pup. "That's right, right. I did, did I not? I believe I sent a messanger. He will arrive in a few days to the home of Thranduil. Then, what happens next is bound to happen, no? I think, though, we should--help you to clean up, so when Thranduil comes, he sees that you are not mistreated. He would not like that. Mesophas!" she cried again.  
  
He came.  
  
"Pamper our filth with due respect," she demanded, turning out of the hall with a swift pivot that sent gentle bells ringing through the hall.  
  
Mesophas waited until Nyphestas had left to give Legolas a hard kick. Cairnoé fed him her fist. "Stay away from him, lap dog," she threatened, hefting up Legolas' dead weight in her arms. Mesophas spat out a loosened tooth and grumbled.  
  
"The Eldar are always beautiful my--" Cairnoé faltered as Legolas let forth a groan. She eased him down. The bright blue eyes fluttered open. "As beautiful as the stars and as cold as the winter. As always, l--" he coughed violently, his words cut short.  
  
A thin smile appeared on Cairnoé's lips as she heard his words and she gripped him firmly as the coughing spasm shook his frame. "Legolas... You will be fine, worry not, friend," she assured, her voice turning fake and hollow at the word "friend". A cold aura appeared at her shoulder. "We can help you, Good Lady."  
  
Looking up, she expected to see Mesophas. There in his allotted place was a group of cloaked figures, dark and black. Their visible limbs (merely a hand or more) were bandaged thoroughly. "Who--what be you?" stuttered Cairnoé in surprise.  
  
"We are the People of the Lady. We come to help. Help is what you need, no?" they uttered slowly in unison, their voices coming like a hiss of smoke from all directions.  
  
Cairnoé narrowed her eyes in distrust. "Help? From you? I would rather--"  
  
"If they can--let them," choked up Legolas, going into another spasm.  
  
A rush of cloth and unnatural hissing roared through the echoing hall as they surrounded her, throwing Cairnoé into blackness once again. 


End file.
